


An Encounter

by QuinnThePotato (PotatoQuinn)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clarke is a memory eater, F/F, I'm not sure what this is, Smut, Song Inspired, but enjoy, kind of?, strangers on a train trope is strong, this started as a one shot and now I can't stop writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:19:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotatoQuinn/pseuds/QuinnThePotato
Summary: There’s a blonde on the other side of the car, down the aisle, standing up. Lexa can only see the woman’s back and side, but what a sight it is. She’s holding onto a handle, her head leaning on her arm, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. Her hair is pulled back halfway, a few braids resting at the back. The woman’s arms are bare, and she can see the outline of some muscle there, flexing as the train sways. She wears a dress, mint green, knee length, sitting on her curves just right. She has a messenger type bag slung over her torso, her free hand resting on it. She looks relaxed yet poised, her cheek pressed into her bicep.~or~Lexa is on her way home and is hit suddenly with a Thirst™ when she catches sight of a blonde on the train. Later, she finds that there's more to her than she could ever think.First part cross-posted on Tumblr.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to a Trip Hop mix on YouTube when this song came on, and so I went to see what the song was called, and so discovered "Strangers on a Train" by Lovage. And thus, this thing was born. 
> 
> This first part is Lexa's point of view, the next will be Clarke's. 
> 
> The second part will follow as soon as I've written it out.

Lexa sits in a seat, leaning her head back as she breathes. She doesn’t breathe too deeply, because the air is stale and recycled; it’s the subway, after all. She’s tired and eager for her bed, as cold as it is these days. Ever since-

That’s not important.

She sighs as the doors finally hiss shut, and they’re off.

The train rumbles along the tracks, lights flickering on the ceiling. A group of college students crowd around one door. One sight catches her eye and keeps it, however. There’s a blonde on the other side of the car, down the aisle, standing up. Lexa can only see the woman’s back and side, but what a sight it is. She’s holding onto a handle, her head leaning on her arm, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. Her hair is pulled back halfway, a few braids resting at the back. The woman’s arms are bare, and she can see the outline of some muscle there, flexing as the train sways. She wears a dress, mint green, knee length, sitting on her curves just right. She has a messenger type bag slung over her torso, her free hand resting on it. She looks relaxed yet poised, her cheek pressed into her bicep. 

Lexa’s breath catches in her throat as the woman glances over her shoulder, a smirk on her pink lips. She can’t tell if she’s looking at her though, the sunglasses are too dark to tell. The brunette tears her gaze away and stares at her hands in her lap as she wrings them, chewing on her lip. 

She stays that way, determined to not look up until her stop is called.

She fails, and she looks up again. Her mind is filled suddenly, with images, fantasies. Of her hands resting on those hips, traveling up her sides. Her lips pressed against the pale bit of skin she can see at the woman’s neck. Burying one hand in that thick blonde hair as the woman turns around to attach her lips to Lexa’s throat, the other brushing to the underside of her breasts, moving down, down, down-

“Is this seat taken?” A sultry voice cuts through her thoughts, and she looks up to see a blonde smirking down at her. No, not just  _ a  _ blonde,  _ the  _ blonde, the one she had been watching from the other end of the car. 

“Um, no, go ahead.” Lexa gestures at the empty seat next to her, her cheeks burning. Can the woman tell what she’s been thinking about, about her? She licks her lips, now keeping her eyes fixed steadily on the advertisement in front of her on the wall about some cell phone company. She doesn’t fail to notice that there’s only a couple other people left on this particular car, all the way at the other end. An old man snoozing with his hat over his eyes, and one older woman with her nose to her phone and a scowl on her face. Her heartbeat picks up as the blonde leans closer, and her nose twitches at the scent that drifts from her skin. Something like, lavender? Or vanilla? Maybe a mixture of both? 

Whatever it is, it makes her insides tingle in the most pleasant of ways.

The blonde seems to sense this, and she leans closer, pressing her breasts against Lexa’s arm. “Where you headed?” she asks, looking out the window on the brunette’s other side.

She was headed home, right? Or where ever, because every once in awhile, Lexa got the urge for an adventure, and got off at a different stop or stayed on for awhile longer, her notebook clutched in her hands. She might do that today, she decides suddenly, and shrugs. 

The woman hums and just leans against, her, her fingers trailing along her arm as if it’s a normal thing for strangers to do. Her skin erupts in goosebumps, and she swallows to wet her throat. 

“I’m L-” she starts to introduce herself, but is interrupted.

“I don’t wanna know your name,” she whispers, her breath tickling Lexa’s ear, followed by a nip. The brunette shudders, her eyes flickering shut as she bites her lip. 

“Okay,” she whispers back when a thumb pulls her lip free. She can’t quite comprehend what’s going on, but she’s not about to stop whatever it is, as the woman’s blue eyes are almost overtaken by her pupils. Lexa gulps again.

The blonde leans forward, slowly, her eyes watching closely, and she takes Lexa’s bottom lip in her teeth gently, nipping it. She soothes her bite with a lick, then presses her lips against Lexa’s, and Lexa’s brain shuts down a little bit. She reaches up and touches the blonde’s cheek, her jaw, the back of her neck. She buries her hand in her hair, and it’s better than she thought, oh  _ God _ , and she pulls just a little. The moan the blonde lets out shoots straight to Lexa’s core, and she pulls her closer, licking into her mouth and groaning at the taste of this stranger. She tastes like mint, coffee, and something so unique it makes her shiver. 

She wonders if the woman tastes as good cumming.

She feels fingers scratching at her scalp, a hand pushing up her shirt, and her abdominal muscles clench at the sensation as her clit throbs. Lexa trails her other hand up to cover the blonde’s breast, pressing her thumb to the hardening nipple she can feel through the material just barely. She glances around, noting that their ministrations are hidden by their bodies’ angles.

“I better go, this is my stop,” the blonde husks as the subway screeches to a stop, pulling away just a bit to get her words out. Lexa barely holds back the whine that attempts to escape her throat, leaning forward to chase her lips. The woman chuckles and lays a hand on Lexa’s chest, pressing her back a little. “If you have no set plans, you can come up to my place?”

Lexa gulps again, one hand gripping at the blonde’s hip while she dug her other one into her own thigh. Was she serious? She’d bring a stranger up to her home? Was she that desperate? 

Lexa sure seems to be, as she finds herself nodding and licking her lips, pressing into the woman. The woman gets up and grabs her hand off her hip, pulling her up and leading her to the door. Lexa follows in a sort of haze, her fingers winding with the blonde’s. It occurs to her just then that she doesn’t even know this stranger’s name, but somehow that doesn’t bother her as much as she first initially thought. 

She’s led out to the station, up some stairs and to the street, and then two doors down to an apartment building. Lexa loses her patients and presses against the woman, kissing her way up her neck, along her jaw, sucking on the skin just below her ear. She thrills at the keening sound the woman lets out, at the fingers clutching at her to pull her closer, at the knee that wedges in between her thighs and presses upwards.

The blonde somehow manages to get her front door open, and she pulls Lexa in, shutting the door firmly.

Lexa grins into her skin, blinks, and finds herself suddenly standing on the sidewalk in an unknown part of the city. Her arms are empty, her clothes disheveled, and she’s sore in all the right places. She pats her pockets and finds her wallet and phone, tucked away safely where she usually keeps them. She pulls out her wallet to check through it, counting the cash she knew she had in there, finding nothing missing. She finds a card, however, fancy calligraphy spelling out a message.

"Call me. Clarke."

There's a number on the back in shiny holographic print.

She looks around, confused, at the gray buildings and dim yellow streetlights and bustling cars on the road.

Where in the hell is she?


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two! Clarke's side of things!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part two, almost five months later! I'm sorry for the delay, I lost my writing muse after a lot of stuff I went through and I'm just now finding it again. Sort of. I've been writing, but nothing has gotten even a little bit finished that needed to be like this one, so I'm counting this as progress. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy, part three is in the works! I'm not sure how long this will be, but hopefully it's all good when it's done?
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Clarke is intrigued. 

This gorgeous woman -with the sad, beautiful green eyes- can’t keep her hands off her. She didn’t even have to flood her with pheromones like she usually did. Just a glance and a tiny puff of her natural perfume, and the woman was immediately enthralled. This is exciting; usually the blonde has to work at it a little to get someone this worked up. Not that it mattered if her, uh,  _ donors _ were sexually charged really. It just helped get them somewhere private, so she could feed in peace. Feeding on people’s memories isn’t exactly something she can do without drawing attention to herself, especially if there are people around.

She finally gets her key to turn in the lock, the door open, and the woman attached to her neck into her apartment. The green-eyed beauty pushes her against the door once it’s closed, grinning into the tender skin of her neck before sucking on that one spot that always makes her knees weak. Everything is hot, muscles are clenching in anticipation, and she’s in that headspace she gets into when her senses are overwhelmed with pleasure. There’s nips and kisses and licks, hands roaming, clothes being tossed off, hair being tugged, slick skin against slick skin. 

Clarke attaches her teeth to the soft spot between the girl’s shoulder and neck, biting gently, then harder when the girl lets out the most filthy sound she’s heard in awhile. She catches her as her knees give out, letting out a throaty chuckle as she leads her to her bedroom. The brunette tries to take charge, pushing against her towards the bed. Clarke shakes her head, a smirk on her lips, and turns them so the girl lands on her back with a huff. The stranger’s legs are hanging off the side, and Clarke stares down at her for a moment. 

She’s gorgeous, all tan skin stretched over toned muscle. Her breasts are the perfect size to fit one in her palm, and she proves it as she bends down, licking up the girl’s neck as she kneads the flesh in her hands. She leaves her right hand where it is, the other moving down to the apex of her thighs, slowly, slowly. She rests her fingers on the curls she finds there, moving her mouth up to nip along the girl’s sharp jaw.

“I don’t normally do this,” she says, and Clarke sits up a little to look into green eyes. She rolls the hardening nipple in her fingers, tugging just a little, scratching at the curls below, dipping her fingers closer to the heat there, but not quite touching. The girl moans and pushes up into her hands, and Clarke smirks.

“We can stop, you can go if you want,” she offers, leaning back in and scraping her teeth under her jaw.

“No! Don’t- I-” She can’t seem to get the words out, and Clarke chuckles. 

“If you’re sure,” she husks out into her ear, licking at the shell of it, “then I’ll just continue.” 

“I- I’m sure, don’t stop,” the brunette chokes out, clutching at Clarke’s shoulders, threading long, slender fingers through her hair. 

Clarke grins and kisses her way down a slender neck to collarbones, nipping at them, biting them, sucking the succulent skin between her lips. The noises leaving the green eyed beauty’s lips makes the blonde shiver, and she moves down to attach her lips to the nipple her fingers aren’t pulling at, scraping her teeth over the bud just barely before running the flat of her tongue over it. She shudders at the heat and slick she feels when she pushes her fingers lower, revelling in the desperate moan that spills from her lover’s lips. The moan pitches higher as she takes the other woman’s nipple between her lips and sucks, just a little, kneading the other breast with her whole palm. 

The brunette whimpers as Clarke pulls away, making her way down the toned, slender body under her, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in her wake. She nestles in between the woman’s legs, pushing her thighs apart and revealing her prize.

 

Clarke doesn’t do this, normally. She doesn’t talk, cuddle, or any of the post-sex things couples do, because she’s never part of a couple, not really. But here she lay, her arms wrapped around the brunette she’d spent most the night ravishing, stroking her skin and tracing her tattoos with her fingers. She’s  _ spooning _ her, her body wrapped around the younger woman’s, soaking in her warmth as they lie there.

“I never do this,” the brunette says, quietly repeating her earlier sentiment and unknowingly voicing Clarke’s thought. She’s caressing Clarke’s arm with her fingertips, carefully, softly, like she’ll bruise the skin if she presses any harder. The movements raise goosebumps on the blonde’s skin, but they’re ignored. “This, sex with a stranger thing, I mean.” Clarke stays quiet, figuring if the woman spoke up, she had something to say. “I, I’m trying to, branch out, I guess. Experiment, find new ways of, of doing things. Trying new things.” 

Clarke hums. “Nothing wrong with trying new things,” she says against the woman’s shoulder before kissing the skin there, tasting salt. 

The woman is quiet for a bit again, and Clarke thinks she fell asleep. Then she speaks again, an obvious pain in her voice. “My gir- my girlfriend left me. Um, ex, I guess. For someone else.” 

She says nothing else, and soon pulls away and starts looking for her clothes. Clarke stays in the bed for a bit longer, watching the gorgeous creature in her room as she pulls on her jeans and tee-shirt, enjoying the view for just a bit longer. Then she sighs and gets up as well, going to the bathroom before digging out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt for herself. She goes to the woman, standing close, pressing against her back as she trails her hands up and around, feeling the muscles that are hidden under the fabric of the shirt. “Take a walk with me?”

The brunette agrees, and they leave the apartment, walking down the street arm-in-arm. They stay silent, just enjoying each other’s proximity, taking in the evening as the sun sets behind the cityscape to their left. It’s almost a pretty sight, but that’s not what Clarke is looking at. 

She’s studying the brunette in the dying light, how the shadows make her jaw sharper, make her cheekbones more prominent. The transformation is breathtaking, even with the pain and sadness clouding those green eyes. Clarke chews on her lip before opening her mouth, the words just slipping free without her permission. “If you could forget it, would you want to?” She doesn’t specify, knowing that the woman understands her question.

The brunette is quiet for a bit as they walk, her thoughts on a pretty girl with curly hair and dark skin, bright brown eyes and plump lips. Clarke dips in to watch the memories, just a little, enough to see how happy Lexa was with Costia. Enough to see just how hurt Lexa is, knowing Costia doesn’t love her as much as she thought (enough to learn her lover’s name, and the name of the woman who shattered her heart). Clarke’s heart hurts for the green eyed beauty at her side, watching the memory of when Costia officially moved out, leaving behind an empty husk that used to be filled with such light.

When Lexa speaks again, it’s in a whisper, almost wistfully. “I would, actually. It hurts, so much.”

Clarke doesn’t think she was meant to hear that, but she takes it. She stops Lexa with a hand on her arm, turning her to face her. “Maybe I can help,” she says, reaching one hand up to brush against Lexa’s temple as she leans in for one last kiss. She pulls at the memories of Costia, drawing them out as she licks into Lexa’s mouth, tasting her for the last time as she takes away the cause of her pain. Then she draws out the memory of the last few hours, before turning and walking away, heading back home.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa goes on with her day, although something is missing??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another chapter less than 24 hours later!?
> 
> I must have eaten something weird. But here, have this while I work on part four, yeah? Hopefully some things will be answered next chapter, please bear with me!

The next day is less confusing, a normal day, filled with jogging in the morning and stopping by the gym right after. She smiles at a pretty, curly haired girl and her girlfriend, wondering at the funny looks they give her as she brightly goes through her routine before hitting the shower. She gets a tiny bit of a sense that she’s seen them before, and for some odd reason she feels a little sad when she sees them lean into each other, but she chalks it up to the fact that she’s single and wishes for that sort of closeness with someone. 

It’s not until later that she suspects anything is wrong. 

She’s eating brunch with her best friend Anya, like they do once a week, indulging in waffles and fresh fruit. She had told her about the cute couple at the gym between bites and sips of orange juice, and now Anya was giving her a funny look much like the two women did. “What?”

“The gym on Second?” Anya asked, her fork paused midway to her mouth with a bit of eggs on it.

“Yeah, that’s the gym I always go to. Why?” Lexa shook her head, puzzled at her friend’s strange behavior. 

“Lex, you haven’t gone to that gym since Costia left you.” 

Lexa blinked, even more confused. “Who the hell is Costia?”

“What the hell do you mean who the hell is Costia? She’s the woman who shattered your heart into tiny pieces? The one you swore you were going to spend the rest of your life with? The one you met at the gym on Second, so you stopped going when she broke up with you?” Anya set her fork down, her eyebrows drawn together in what Lexa recognized as confusion and concern. “Lexa, did you maybe hit your head sometime?”

Lexa has a vague sense of maybe having thumped her head against the wall, some wall, somewhere, but she can’t quite grasp the memory, like it’s been smudged out. There’s a phantom feeling of lips on hers and fingers on her temple, but she can’t make anything of it, so she pushes it aside and shakes her head. “No, I didn’t hit my head.” She frowns, remembering the bit of time she’s missing. “I do have a total black out though, a few hours from last night are missing.”

Anya frowns, resting her arms on the table and leaning forward. “Did you go out drinking?”

Lexa shakes her head. “No, my head doesn’t hurt, I don’t have any semblance of a hangover. There was a blonde, a really pretty girl on the train home. I-” She blushes, blinking at her best friend. She might as well say it, Anya always has a way of prying things out of her whether she wants to share or not. “I may have gone home with her?” She shifts in her seat, the ghost of the woman’s fingers raising goosebumps on her skin.

Anya’s eyebrows hit her hairline and she sits back. “You may have gone home with a random pretty blonde you met on a train?”

Lexa avoids her stare and sips at her juice again, looking out at the other patrons eating around them. She sets her glass down and tries to gather herself. She’s grown, she can do whatever she wants, right? She forces herself to meet her best friend’s gaze, hoping her blush fades quickly. “Yeah well, she was hot, okay?” She’s thinking of the encounter on the train for a minute, the taste of mint and coffee, and something else she can’t quite pinpoint on the back of her tongue. She realizes she never got to taste-

“Oh my god, Lex, seriously snap out of it,” Anya hisses, glancing at the waiter as he comes by to refill the blonde’s coffee. 

Lexa blinks and sucks in a breath, licking her lips. She shakes her head and finishes the rest of her juice before sitting back in her chair. “Sorry.”

“Where in the hell did you just go?” Anya smirks, stirring some sugar into her mug. 

Lexa shook her head, not wanting to go into details. Usually, after a lot of prodding, she shared. But this time, this she wanted to keep to herself. Especially since there was a whole bit of time that was just, gone. And apparently a whole person, that she had loved, that she just didn’t remember no matter how hard she tried to. “Tell me about this woman? This, Costia?”

Anya shook her head, her eyes going dark like they did when she was plotting some sort of revenge against someone who had crossed them. “I don’t think that would be a good thing, right now. I’m too mad to not paint her as ugly.”

Well, at least she was honest. Lexa sighs and digs into her wallet to cover her half of the bill like she always does, frowning when her fingers brush against the card that’s still in the fold. “Clarke…” It has to be the name of that blonde woman from the train, right? There’s no other explanation. Maybe this Clarke knows what happened, why she seemed to be missing some time.

“What’s that?” Anya leans forward and plucks the card out of her fingers, scanning over the handwritten message and holographic number. 

“I don’t know, I found it in my wallet last night, after… After.” Lexa shrugs. She tried to remember when she’d gotten it, but nothing has come up. She supposes she must have gotten it sometime during the few hours that are gone.

Anya scowls and flips the card over a few times before handing it back. “You should call the number. Maybe this person knows why you don’t seem to remember your ex or whatever happened last night.”

Lexa hums and pulls out the cash for the bill, tossing it down before getting up. “I might, later. I have stuff to do first, it’s Saturday.”

“I know what day it is, Dimwit,” Anya scoffs, rolling her eyes as she tosses her half of the bill and tip onto the table. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Lexa smiles and hugs her friend. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Lexa decides to walk to the park, liking the breeze that is drifting through the trees. She’s not in a rush, but she knows that the kids she helps mentor won’t be there all day, so she doesn’t dawdle. She grins when she sees her foster brother Lincoln already there with his girlfriend Octavia, both yelling and cheering as some of the kids race each other through the grass. Indra chats nearby with a couple of the older kids, and Lexa heads over to the social worker. She and Lincoln have been meeting with Indra and the other kids since the both of them aged out of the system, doing what they could to let the younger kids know they’d always be around. It had turned into a weekly activity thing over the last several years, and Lexa nearly never missed a week.

They form a couple of teams and play soccer, even Indra joins, and they play for a few hours until dinner time rolls around and the kids’ stomachs send them home to eat. Lexa goes with the other three adults for dinner at Lincoln’s place, chatting and talking about work, and everything goes fine until she hears that name again.  _ Costia _ . 

She huffs and stands, done with her meal anyway. “I have no idea who you’re talking about, Link. Seriously, are you and An trying to prank me or something?” She wouldn’t put it past them, it wouldn’t be the first time. When they were kids they’d somehow managed to convince her that Indra was some warrior from another dimension where Earth was mostly destroyed and humans were scarce. 

She leaves with their confused looks burned into her mind, walking the few blocks to her apartment in silence. She pulls the card out when she gets inside and kicks her shoes off, staring at it while she summons up the will and courage to type the number into her phone. Something’s going on, and she has a feeling this Clarke will know what.

She takes a breath and dials the number, biting her lip when a familiar voices husks over the connection. “Hello?”

“Um, hey, Clarke?” There’s a hitch of breath from the other side, and Lexa slumps onto her couch. “I think we need to talk.”

The woman is silent for a minute. “Alright, meet me for coffee in the morning? Nine at that cute cafe on Main?”

Lexa agrees, hoping she’ll get some answers.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's day, taking place the same day as Lexa's.

The memories Clarke fed on the night before seem to have filled her up, and she feels like she’s gorged on a buffet until bursting. Some memories do that, some are so potent that just a little bit will be enough for a few weeks. The ones she took from Lexa feel like they’ll be enough for a few months, at least. She’s got so much energy now, she’s even up with the sun making coffee. Not that she needs it, she really just drinks it for looks and because she likes the taste.

Her phone goes off, and she looks to see that she’s got a few texts in the group chat she’s in with some of her friends, a group of people that are like her, that aren’t human either (they haven’t figured out what to call themselves, most of them having just recently in the last couple years figured out what they can do). They’re wanting to hang out for the morning, and she sends off a text saying she’ll meet them if they figure out a place. She’s not surprised when they decide on coming to her apartment.

Only a few show up, her closest friends.

Monty and Jasper, dirt under their fingernails still from tending to their plants (most legal, some not).

Raven, with a music box in her hands that wouldn’t wind up anymore, tinkering with it.

The Blake siblings, both extremely persuasive with their voices when they put some effort into it.

Everyone brought food for breakfast, and they all make themselves comfortable in Clarke’s space like they live there. The only ones missing are Finn (who feeds off sexual energy like the mythological Incubus) and Murphy (who’s a mind reader of sorts. Clarke’s partly thankful he’s busy that morning, as she can’t keep her mind off the woman from the night before).

They eat breakfast, chatting about what plans they have for the day, and then Clarke spends the rest of the morning and part of her afternoon in the gallery she’d bought a few years ago with the money she’d inherited when her father passed. She cleans up a bit in the back, works on one of the paintings she’d started weeks ago, but finds her mind is most occupied with a certain brunette stranger with green eyes and a jawline that kills. She tries to pry Octavia away for the evening but is begged off, the younger girl claiming she and her boyfriend are entertaining a friend for dinner.

She throws a frozen meal into the microwave and pours a glass of cheap wine to enjoy, thoughts still lingering on Lexa. She feels bad for just walking away from her, leaving the woman to wander. She really didn’t think it all the way through, but she did at least leave her number in the woman’s wallet. Seeing as she took Lexa’s memories, even of the night they shared, she wasn’t really holding out hope that she’d call, but there was always a chance, right?

Her phone goes off when she nursing her second glass of wine, and she jumps a foot off the sofa before grabbing for the damn thing, cursing under her breath. She sees it’s Octavia, and she huffs, hiding her disappointment with irritation. “What?”

“What did you do to that poor woman!?” The younger woman is almost hysterical, and Clarke furrows her brows.

“What the hell are you talking about, O?”

“You’re the only one I know that can take memories away. Lincoln’s friend Lexa doesn’t remember her ex, who she was together with for a whole year. Clarke, she doesn’t even remember her name!”

Clarke feels a spark of guilt. “Other than that, she’s okay, right?” She’s worried now. She doesn’t really know the entire stretch of consequences for feeding on memories, but if she wants to survive, she doesn’t have much choice.

"Yeah, she's physically fine, but Clarke-"

"I had to feed, okay? It's been like, a month since the last time. I was starving." Clarke knows that's not really an excuse, but it's the truth. She really hadn't meant to go that far, take that much, but Lexa had been in such pain.

She listens as Octavia scolds and yells at her for half an hour before the girl's boyfriend is able to pull her away from the phone. He doesn't say anything to Clarke, and she knows he's upset at her for messing with his friend's memories, and she feels even worse. She's never had this problem before. All her other donors never remember her, and they're never friends with anyone Clarke knows. She doesn't know what to do, she has no real way of contacting Lexa, not without seeming like a weird stalker.

She stares at her wine after Octavia and Lincoln hang up, uninterested in finishing the glass.

Her phone rings again, and her heart skips a beat at the unrecognized number on the caller ID. She swipes to answer, licking her lips. “Hello?”

“Um, hey, Clarke?” It's Lexa, Clarke would know that voice anywhere. Her breath hitches, and the other woman sounds a little hesitant. “I think we need to talk.”

Clarke is silent for a bit, panicking inside, because what if this woman is pissed, and wants revenge? Or maybe she wants the memories back, and honestly, Clarke's never given memories back, she's only ever taken them. She swallows her anxiety and speaks. “Alright, meet me for coffee in the morning? Nine at that cute cafe on Main?”

Lexa agrees, and Clarke takes a deep breath after hanging up, downing the rest of the glass of wine before pouring herself another. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally broke through most of the writer's block I had, so have a thing for those who like this one.... Hopefully another chapter will be posted really soon! It's a little difficult to write when my playlist keeps getting interrupted with ads, but I'm making do! Next chapter will be the two of them awkwardly drinking coffee before attempting to talk about serious things. Thanks for reading! 
> 
> comments and kudos are fuel, if you feel so inclined to leave either...


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talks! It gets kinda angsty....

Lexa is nervous.

She managed to dress herself, and shower, and wake up (not in that order). Now she's standing in front of her door, staring at the thing, her heart pounding hard in her chest.

She doesn't know why she's so nervous, except maybe she does. She doesn't remember much about this blonde, this Clarke, other than what her skin tastes like and what her lips taste like, and how she feels under her hands.

Lexa knows too, that this woman she's supposed to meet for coffee or whatever took a year's worth of memories of one person. Which, if she thinks about it, is kind of amazing. She remembers her birthday last year, when Anya got more drunk than she did and ended up passed out face down on the bar. She remembers Christmas, which she spent with Lincoln and Indra, like she did every year. She remembers things from the past year, events, and she even called and talked with Lincoln last night about some of it and there was apparently another whole person in most of those memories that no longer exists in Lexa's mind.

It's scary, even if it is impressive.

She's not really sure if she wants to go and meet this Clarke in person, again. What if she took more memories?

What if she gave the missing ones back, and they were terrible?

It's eight fifteen when Lexa finally steps out of her apartment, and she gets to the cafe at eight fifty-three. It's not terribly full when she gets there, maybe halfway. There's a short line at the counter, and Lexa spots Clarke sitting in a booth to the right. She takes a shakey breath and heads over, steeling herself for the coming conversation. She's nervous (though she can't fathom _why_ ) but she's also upset, because there's a whole person she should remember but _doesn't_.

She stands beside the booth, staring into Clarke's eyes for a moment before sitting down across from her. Her heart is pounding, and she can't pin the exact reason, so she grabs the little menu sitting in it's stand to read it over. Clarke is quiet, stirring a spoon in her steaming mug and watching Lexa decide on her drink.

A waitress comes by and takes Lexa's order, and they stay silent while it's poured and brought to the table. Lexa sips at the hot, dark liquid, staring intensely down at the table between them.

When Lexa risks looking up to see what Clarke's doing, she finds blue eyes still watching her, steadily, patiently.

Lexa sets her cup down and takes a deep breath, setting her hands on either side of the dish, palms flat on the polished wood of the table. She lets the breath out and pushes her anxiety down. "So, I have some apparently important memories missing." Clarke is pale, but she nods and sets her mug down, her eyes falling to look at the table. Lexa continues, and she finds herself rambling a little. "I remember the last year, you know? I remember my birthday and Christmas and all the other holidays, and I remember going and seeing some of the movies that came out, but apparently I wasn't alone at all these, there was someone there, and I don't remember her, at all. I mean, my best friend despises whoever this is, so I'm not really all that sure that I- The point is, they- She- You did something, it had to have been you, and I feel, I-" She stops, a fist gripping her heart painfully as she finally figures out what she's been feeling since she discovered there was a whole _person_  missing from her mind. "I feel violated."

Clarke looks up, and the emotions in her eyes are so dense, so pronounced, that it makes Lexa's breath catch in her throat. Clarke looks devastated, horrified, and blue eyes water instantly. "I'm so sorry, that was not- I-" Clarke blinks, taking a breath and running a hand through that blonde mane of hers. "I'm a memory feeder."

Lexa is taken aback, and she sits back in the seat. "You're a what?"

Clarke chews on her lip, tapping her fingers on the table. "I don't know exactly what I'm called, to be honest, I, just kind of woke up like this one day." Lexa is confused and has so many questions, but she stays quiet and allows Clarke to try and explain. "I feed on memories. If I don't, I get really sick, I starve. Like if a normal person doesn't eat food for a long time, they get weak and sick, that's how I get without memories. It doesn't even have to be really significant, you know? Just, a little thing can get me by for a couple of weeks."

Lexa's mind is reeling with this information, not really knowing how to react or how to feel about it. She nods slowly, trying to wrap her mind around it all. She manages to just understand a little, enough to finally speak again. "So, you feed on memories." Clarke nods. "You fed on mine?" Clarke winces, nodding again. "There's an entire person that I used to love that I don't remember at all anymore." She doesn't exactly mean to sound bitter and angry, but that's how she sounds to her own ears.

Clarke bites her lips together, tapping her fingers on the table again. "To be frank, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. This is a big city, you know? You're not the first person I've ever fed on." Lexa pulls her hands off the table and crosses her arms over her stomach. "I know it's not an excuse, that's just how my mind works. I choose people I don't think I'll see again. I didn't, I didn't know that you were friends with Lincoln."

"You know Lincoln?" Lexa knows this is off-topic, but the sudden knowledge is a bit surprising.

Clarke shrugs, glancing up. "Kind of? He's dating my best friend."

"So you're Octavia's friend." Lexa relaxes a little, not aware she was so tense until she's just, not anymore.

"Yes." Clarke nods once, fiddling with a napkin now. She's never sitting still, always doing something, always fidgeting or fiddling or tapping. Lexa would find it cute if she wasn't so pissed off, if she didn't feel so invaded. "I realize that my, that it's-" she seems to struggle with her words, tearing the napkin to shreds with her fingers as tears fill her eyes. "I know that what I do is an invasion of privacy and, and violating." Her voice breaks at the last word, and she looks up again. "But I wouldn't do it if I could survive otherwise."

Lexa holds her gaze, trying to read her. She sounds and looks sincere, close to tears, with a look in her eyes that looks very close to hate. It's a look Lexa knows well, when she sees it. She used to look at herself like that, like it (whatever _it_  was) was all her own fault. Like she'd ruined something good just by being herself.

She realizes with a jolt that maybe that's how she'd felt when this Costia had left her. That if she had changed, maybe Costia would have stayed. If Lexa were anyone but herself, things would have turned out different.

Seeing that look in Clarke's deep blue eyes makes Lexa hurt, because that shouldn't be a look anyone should have in their eyes. Lexa slumps and uncrosses her arms, running one hand through her hair and reaching for her cup with the other. She takes a few gulps, wincing at finding her drink cooler than she likes, before speaking. "You've been dealt a really shitty hand."

Clarke huffs out a wet laugh, wiping at her cheeks. "Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments fuel my motivation, so please leave some! If I don't think anyone is reading this, I'll stop writing it, because then what would be the point?
> 
> For those of you reading, thank you!


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke agrees to try to give Lexa's memories back, and Lincoln and Octavia are invited to be there for support (and also so Lexa's not alone with Clarke because trust is nonexistant)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Clexa is endgame and they will end up together....
> 
> also, I guess watching Critical Role is inspirational? because this whole part was written while I was watching it live...

That whole conversation sucked ass, but Clarke thought it went a little better than she had initially thought. Now the two are sitting quietly, awkwardly almost, driking their coffee.

Well, Lexa's drinking her drink. Clarke is sitting and tapping her fingers on the table again, and she knows she's being annoying, but she's still really nervous and anxious. Thoughts are flying through her mind too fast for her to really register them, so when she speaks, it's almost on accident. "I don't know if I can give your memories back."

Lexa is quiet, and Clarke is even more nervous, now tapping her toes on the floor as well as her fingers on the table. Lexa nods, her face a mix of emotions. When she speaks, it's with a quiet voice and a troubled look. "I don't know if I want to remember her, honestly," she admits, her jaw tensing. "I, I mean, you took my memories of her, but I think, I think I still have like, remnants of the emotions I felt?"

Clarke nods, chewing on her lip. "That makes sense. Like, phantom feelings?" Lexa nods, setting her cup down. Clarke stills most of her movements, leaving one finger on her left hand tapping. She hates herself so much right then, knowing she's hurt this woman, knowing she's potentially hurts others. She's always been aware that her... nature... is harmful to normal people, but facing one of her donors (victims, she knows is the correct term, but she can't stand to think like that) makes the fact of it way worse.

Lexa is rubbing one finger against her cup, chewing on the inside of her lip. She looks up at Clarke, her brows furrowed. "Why?"

She doesn't elaborate, and she doesn't have to. Clarke knows what she means: why did she take those memories? Why those specifically?

Clarke gulps and sits up a bit, feeling her cheeks burn as she decides to tell the truth. "I saw how much the memories of her hurt you, and I wanted to help."

"That was none of your business."

Lexa's words cut through her, and she knows she's right, but it still hurts. Clarke doesn't know her, had no business making that decision, and did it anyway. "I know. I'm an absolute piece of shit." When Lexa doesn't say anything, Clarke drops her gaze to the table, following the whorls in the wood. She doesn't try to defend herself, because really, she doesn't deserve to be defended. "I don't know if I can give your memories back," she repeats, "but I can try."

There's silence, and then Lexa repeats herself as well. "I don't know if I want to remember her." Clarke nods, glancing up. "But I kind of would like to remember the night we shared."

Clarke is stunned, her cheeks heating up, and she looks fully at Lexa. Lexa's cheeks are flushed hotly, and the expression on her face is clearly one of embarrassment mixed with determination as she looks Clarke right in the eyes. "I can try," Clarke says again, really wanting to do right by this woman.

They talk a bit more, and Lexa agrees to go back to her apartment if she doesn't go alone. Clarke nods and suggests inviting her best friend Octavia and Lexa's friend Lincoln, and Lexa agrees. They decide on trying this afternoon, and both text their respective friends.

They go back to Clarke's apartment, meeting Lincoln and Octavia at the door. Lincoln grabs Lexa up into a tight hug, and she clings to him for a minute. Octavia gives Clarke a look that she can't quite interperet, brushing her hand on Clarke's arm as she passes her into the apartment.

"Anyone want a drink?" Clarke asks, lingering in her kitchen for a moment.

"You know my favorite," Octavia says, joining her. She reaches up into the high cupboard that holds her favorite whiskey, and Clarke grabs glasses from another cupboard. Octavia rummages in Clarke's fridge for beer and then carries the bottles to the living room where Lexa and Lincoln are sitting on the couch.

Clarke grabs a few different sodas from the fridge as well, just in case, and then follows behind her friend and sets her armful down on the coffee table. She sits in the chair closest to Lexa, within arm's reach, and Octavia makes herself comfortable on Linoln's lap.

Lexa reaches for the can of Coke and opens it, sipping on it, then setting it down before speaking. "How do, um, what do you want me to do?"

Clarke shifts on her seat, opting for the can of Sprite she'd grabbed, and chews on her lip while she thinks. "Do you want all of it, or just...?"

"Um, let's just stick with, with that night for now. If it works, then I'll consider the rest." Lexa avoids looking at Lincoln, but accepts his offer of his hand, grabbing it tightly.

Clarke nods and takes a breath. "Um, I need to be touching you, I think. At least, that's how the other way works." Lexa nods and holds out her hand. Clarke takes it, resisting the urge to rub her thumb on the back. "I'm going to start with uh, with the conversation we had after, to see if it works."

She waits for Lexa's nod before closing her eyes and concentrating.

_Then, she's looking through Lexa's eyes, as it's Lexa's memory, at her bedroom wall. She can feel her fingertips stroking soft skin, Lexa's fingertips on Clarke's skin._

_“I never do this. This, sex with a stranger thing, I mean," Lexa's voice says from her throat, the sound echoed a little like she was speaking in a tunnel, and Clarke is quiet. “I, I’m trying to, branch out, I guess. Experiment, find new ways of, of doing things. Trying new things.”_

_There's a hum from behind her. “Nothing wrong with trying new things." Lips move against her shoulder, and then presses there._

_“My gir- my girlfriend left me. Um, ex, I guess. For someone else.”_

_She gets up and finds her clothes, getting dressed and then just stands for a moment. Hands trail up and around, feeling the muscles that are hidden under the fabric of the shirt. “Take a walk with me?” is husked into her ear._

_Her vision shakes as she nods, and they leave, taking in the sight of the cityscape around them and the sunset._

_“If you could forget it, would you want to?” a voice next to her says, and she still looks at the scene around them as she thinks of Costia and all that transpired with her._

_He mouth opens, and she speaks softly. “I would, actually. It hurts, so much.”_

_“Maybe I can help,” is what the voice beside her says, reaching one hand up to brush against her temple as Clarke leans in for one last kiss. Clarke licks into her mouth, and Lexa closes her eyes._

Then Clarke opens her eyes and is met with three pairs of eyes on her couch, wide and shocked. Octavia is the first to speak, blinking rapidly. "Holy fucking shit, Griffin."

Clarke lets go of Lexa's hand, staring at Octavia and Lincoln. "You saw all that?"

The couple nods, and Lexa curls in on herself a little, letting go of Lincoln.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More memory sharing, without Lincoln and O this time!
> 
> it's smut, so beware!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, the text in italics is the memory, if you didn't catch that in the last part.... also, I'm pretty sure this chapter warrants a rating change...

Lexa is currently reeling from the memory Clarke was able to share with her. It was just a conversation, but it revealed a lot. Like apparently, Lexa had wanted to forget Costia.

She's not sure what to do with that information, nor the fact that Octavia and Lincoln had also seen that memory (though she is thankful that Clarke hadn't shared the explicit memories first). She doesn't know if she wants to remember someone she was so ready to willingly forget. On one hand, she was important to her. On the other hand, the memories had hurt so much she'd wanted to forget.

"Lex, you okay?" Lincoln's soft, gentle voice cuts through the haze she's in, and she turns to him.

"Um, I think so?" She does a quick mental check, and discovers that she is, fact, okay. She's confused still, but she's okay. "Yeah," she tells him, nodding. "I'm confused, but alright. So, you two saw that too?"

Lincoln nodded, frowning. "Yeah. And I don't blame you for wanting to forget her." Lexa stays quiet, finding it suddenly hard to meet his gaze. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to rememeber her."

Lexa nodded, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She knows there's no judgement in anyone's gaze, but she still feels like she should be ashamed. She had wanted to forget a person. She had _wanted_  this.

She shakes her head to clear the negative thoughts and turns to Clarke. "Did it work?"

Clarke shrugs. "I don't really know, do you remember it?"

Lexa thinks for a moment, going over what she saw. "I mean, I can remember what I just saw. I can't really tell if, I don't know." She shrugs. "I guess, technically I remember it since I just saw it, but is there really a way to know if I got my memory back or if I just remember what you showed me?"

Clarke nods, pulling her legs up under her and tucking her hands under her thighs. "That's a good point."

The four of them are quiet for a while, sipping their drinks. Octavia shifts in Lincoln's lap, setting her glass down on the coffee table before looking to Clarke. "This is some new talent you have, Clarke. I mean, Linc and I weren't touching you and we saw what Lexa did."

"I think it was like, a chain reaction?" Clarke is chewing on her lip, obviously in deep thought. "Since Lexa was touching Lincoln and you were touching him." She shrugs.

"I wonder if there's anything else I can do too," Octavia mumbles, and when Lexa looks over at her (because what?? She can do stuff too?!), she just waves her hand in a dissmisive motion.

Lexa is getting increasingly curious about Clarke and Octavia, the fact that Clarke's ability is apparently a thing that's fairly new, and the fact that Octavia has one too. She wonders if more people can do things normal people can't, and if they're human or not. But she shakes it off and focuses back on Clarke. "Will you share the rest of that night?"

Clarke looks a little startled, but she nods and shifts forward, reaching for her hand. Lexa makes sure she's not touching Lincoln this time and grips onto Clarke, closing her eyes.

_There’s not much to see, but she feels nips and kisses and licks on her skin while her lips and teeth did the same to Clarke's, hands roaming over her body while her hands explored Clarke's, her clothes being pulled off while she tugged at Clarke's, her hair being tugged while she tangled her fingers in Clarke's, her slick skin against Clarke's slick skin._

_She feels teeth on the soft spot between her shoulder and neck, biting gently, then harder when Lexa lets out a moan. She feels her knees give out, hears a throaty chuckle as she's  led her to Clarke's bedroom. She pushes Clarke against her towards the bed, but Clarke shakes her head, a smirk on her lips, and turns them so Lexa lands on her back with a huff. Lexa's legs are hanging off the side, and Clarke stares down at her for a moment._

_Clarke bends down and leans over Lexa, taking a breast in her hand as she licks up Lexa's throat, and Lexa's skin pebbles in goosebumps. Clarke leaves her right hand where it is, the other moving down to the apex of Lexa's thighs, slowly, slowly. Clarke rests her fingers on Lexa's curls, moving her mouth up to nip along Lexa's jaw._

_“I don’t normally do this,” Lexa says, and Clarke sits up a little and looks into her eyes. She rolls Lexa's hardening nipple in her fingers, tugging just a little, scratching at the curls below, dipping her fingers closer to Lexa's core, but not quite touching. Lexa moans and pushes up into her hands, and Clarke smirks._

_“We can stop, you can go if you want,” Clarke offers, leaning back in and scraping her teeth under Lexa's jaw, sending a jolt straight down to her clit._

_“No! Don’t- I-” Lexa is having trouble talking, and Clarke chuckles._

_“If you’re sure,” Clarke husks out into her ear, licking at the shell of it making Lexa shudder, “then I’ll just continue.”_

_“I- I’m sure, don’t stop,” Lexa almost begs, clutching at Clarke’s shoulders, threading her  fingers through that blonde hair she'd been fantasizing about on the train._

_She feels as Clarke kisses her way down her neck to her collarbones, nipping at them, biting them, sucking at the skin. Lexa is moaning and keening and whining, and Clarke moves down to attach her lips to the nipple her fingers aren’t pulling at, scraping her teeth over the bud just barely before running the flat of her tongue over it. Lexa pushes into Clarke, moaning louder as fingers swipe through the wetness that is collecting between her thighs. Clarke takes a nipple between her lips and sucks, just a little, kneading the other breast with her whole palm, and Lexa keens higher._

_She whimpers as Clarke pulls away, glancing down to see Clarke leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as she moves down her body. Clarke nestles in between Lexa's legs, pushing her thighs apart and dipping down. Lexa's head drops back as a tongue swipes from her entrance to her clit, and she reaches down to tangle her fingers in Clarke's hair as her hips cant up to meet her mouth._

_She feels herself falling apart as Clarke licks and sucks, but it's not until she sucks her clit between her lips and slides a finger inside her that Lexa cums hard, seeing stars._

Lexa's eyes shoot open, her cheeks flushed hot, as she feels the same effects from that night wash over her again. She avoids looking at Lincoln and Octavia, opting to stare at Clarke while her heart starts to calm and her breathing turns to normal. Clarke looks just as flustered as Lexa feels, and their hands are still clasped together. She can't quite gather her thoughts enough to say anything coherent, and she takes a breath. Clarke just squeezes her hand with an equally lost look on her face, and a ghost of a smile on her lips.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haaaaaaa~ so, Clarke's POV, on the rest of That Night^TM. There's smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully the smut is good, because I seriously never write anything this detailed usually so this is a first.... the memory is in italics, if you remember from last chapter... Thanks for reading!

Clarke takes a moment to catch her breath, then shifts a little in her seat. She's a bit uncomfortable, and she really wishes Lexa and she were alone, but she can't fault Lexa for wanting her friend there with her. There's still more to go over, the memory isn't over, so she licks her lips. "Do you, are you okay to continue?"

Lexa nods, and Clarke looks over at their friends to see them looking at something on Lincoln's phone. Clarke is grateful for the attempt at privacy, and she looks back to Lexa before going into the rest of the memory.

_From Lexa's perspective, she's blissed out and light headed and in awe. Clarke climbs up, then helps Lexa move up the bed so her legs are no longer hanging off the side. Lexa is limp and doesn't want to move, but she goes to where she's led and then pulls Clarke to her and kisses her soundly. She rolls Clarke over, hovering over her and sliding a hand over her skin._

_The blue eyes below her are dark, flushed cheeks below those, and blonde hair laid out in a halo (Clarke is stunned as she views Lexa's memory, barely believing that this is how Lexa had seen her). She takes just a moment to watch, to stare, and then she's leaning down and attaching her lips to the supple skin of Clarke's throat, licking and sucking and nipping. Fingers tangle in her hair, and the body under her arches up as one hand slips down, taking a breast in her palm._

_The moan that leaves Clarke's lips makes her shiver, and her hand lowers to trail over Clarke's stomach. Soft skin erupts in gooseflesh at the attention, muscles quiver. Someone gasps as a hot mouth trails down over Clarke's chest, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in her wake before latching onto an already erect nipple. Lexa lavishes her tongue on the pebbled skin before sucking the bud into her mouth, humming at the keening sound that spills out of Clarke's lips._

_The hand that's lower is met with a slick heat that makes her shiver and long to taste (Clarke is seriously in wonder at this woman's reaction to her). She applies pressure, just a little, finding a rhythm that makes the body under her react in the most wonderful ways._

_Her fingers slip down to tease at Clarke's entrance, dipping in a little before sliding back up, past her clit, over her mound, to rest on her belly. She looks up without moving her head, keeping her lips firmly clasped around the tit, making eye contact as she sucks hard before releasing it with a pop. The noise that leaves Clarke's lips makes Lexa grin, heat coiling in her stomach again. Then she works her way down, hands sliding over skin as she kisses, licks, and nips her way down to the coarse hair at the apex of Clarke's thighs, lower._

_She sniffs, goosebumps erupting all over as the scent of Clarke's sex envelops her. It's sweet and salty, with a bit of musk and something delicious and it makes her mouth water. Her hands caress the soft skin of milky thighs, scratch lightly up and down, and Lexa revels in the goosebumps that follow her fingers. Clarke's hips buck up, and Lexa lets her move, pulling back and looking up. Clarke's eyes are so dark, smoldering, pure bliss on her face as she whines when she doesn't find the pressure she needs. Lexa licks her lips and lowers herself again, nosing at Clarke before swiping her tongue through soaked folds._

_She groans loudly, because oh gods does Clarke taste good, holy shit! She tastes like she smells but somehow better and Lexa swears to herself she'll take time later to try and figure out the words to describe it but right now she needs to just *taste*._

_Lexa wastes no time, lapping up the juices that spill from Clarke's entrance, drinking her in before circling her tongue around the clit that peeks from it's hood. She spells her name, her full name, "Alexandria Elizabeth Woods", then flattens her tongue and just licks. A glance up to Clarke's face tells Lexa she's doing the right things, the hand that buries itself in her hair tells her to do *more*._

_She moans as Clarke pulls at her hair and pushes at her head, then obliges and licks at her entrance, happy to taste more of Clarke. She laps around it for just a moment, pleased to hear a breathy moaned out "please,_ fuck _,_ **please** _!" Then she plunges in, reaching in as far as she can, stretching her jaw as wide as it'll go. Lexa moves one hand and pushes against Clarke's clit with her thumb as she works her tongue inside her, humming as she feels Clarke's muscles start to squeeze around her._

_Clarke comes with a cry, her thighs capturing Lexa as she shakes, and Lexa nearly comes again herself as she continues to fuck her lover through the orgasm._

Clarke jerks out of the memory, her face hot as she tries to control her breathing. She isn't honestly sure whether she'd actually just come from the revisiting of the memory or if she's just remembering the orgasm from that night, but she's uncomfortably so turned on. She looks up to see Lexa sitting back, her cheeks bright red as she presses against the arm of the couch. A glance at Lincoln and Octavia makes Clarke blush harder, Octavia's raised brow and amused smirk obvious next to Lincoln's discomfort. She shifts in her chair, pressing her thighs together and focusing on Lexa. "So, um. Yeah."

Lexa studiously ignores their friends and meets Clarke's gaze, and Clarke gasps at the arousal that burns in those green eyes, making them dark. Lexa's jaw twitches, and she seems to be still in the memory as she swallows, her throat bobbing. There's a little bit of anger, maybe hurt, swimming in her eyes as well, but it's small and gone after a flash.

"Oh my god, okay. Nope." Octavia stands suddenly, causing both Clarke and Lexa to jump. She sets her hands on her hips, then lifts one hand to point between the other two women, frowning. "You two need to bone or cool off. Either way, we're leaving." She glances at Lincoln, ignoring Clarke's spluttering and Lexa's embarrassment, and pulls him up. Then she looks at Lexa. "You good here or are you leaving with us?"

Clarke's heart drops and she looks at Lexa too, who squirms in place for a minute, her gaze still on Clarke. Then she clears her throat and sits up straighter, lifting her chin just a little, and Clarke feels herself drip at the look on the other woman's face. "I'm good."


End file.
